


Past

by AnaVakarian (orphan_account)



Series: 31 days of Wayhaven [16]
Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: 31 Days of Wayhaven, Adam's story, Emotional Constipation, F/M, Headcanon, I cannot help it!, I'm really curious about A's life, Just a bit of history, Library Conversations, Memories, Mutual Pining, Perhaps one day..., This is a very long blurt out, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:42:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27211411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/AnaVakarian
Relationships: Detective/Adam du Mortain, Female Detective/Adam du Mortain
Series: 31 days of Wayhaven [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1940107
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Past

It was one of those evenings, lazy, idle, early Spring, that brings scents of newborn flowers and sunlight. And especially there, in the middle of the forest, at the Warehouse. 

The rising temperatures had finally dried up the accumulated mud after the heavy winter snow and crescent light gave infinite brushstrokes of a renovated green palette. The vast majority of sprouts had reawakened already, green stems poking out everywhere, and new buds awoke back to life on the trees. But the first flowers to grow were, like always, daffodils: they had already covered the field surrounding the Warehouse with a wild layer of fluorescent yellow. 

But despite the obvious changes in temperature and climate, the weather had decided to give the last breath of its bad old habits, unleashing the most unwelcomed storm that weekend. Meaning that my plan to go to the shore with Verda and his family had been postponed, to my disappointment. But I completely understood that the lightning, thunder and the water pouring from the clouds was not the perfect frame to visit and play by the seaside with two little girls.

To top it, all my attempts of going back to my house had been frustrated by a bunch of concerned vampires that seemed to know beforehand how bad the storm would become before I was even able to hear the first raindrops falling. Now, the narrow road that led to the main one had turned into quicksands that impeded any vehicle to drive through. 

And that is how I find myself stuck in the Warehouse for another weekend with Unit Bravo. Although, this time, there are no missions, no assignments, no meetings… Nothing to do at all. 

Not that I’m complaining: it's always fun to be around Felix; Mason is… definitely caustic, although that doesn’t have to be something bad; I will be able to catch up on some research with Nate and, perhaps - and just if the stars aligned correctly - even train a little bit with Adam. Although, this time, I will try my best to not end our sparring with a heated hold against the floor, even if, since it happened, I haven’t been able to brush the whole scene from my mind at all. 

For this Friday evening, I decided to build my fortress in the library, surrounded by my ‘pending list of readings to catch up with’, feet up on the sofa, joggers, tank top, and a comforting glass of red wine. 

And it seems that  _ ‘stubborn  _ minds think alike’, as Adam enters the library with a book and his own glass in his hand. He sits on the opposite side of the 5 seater sofa - as far away as he can from me - without any words at all and opens the book in his lap. 

I glance at him over the pages of the ‘Fae Compendium’ I’m reading just to admire his perfect posture: both feet flat on the floor, straight back and, just for once, relaxed shoulders. My gaze lingers distractedly over the outline of his discreet Roman nose and the squared profile of his jaw before sliding down towards the broadness of his shoulders and the defined muscles of his arm, stretching the sleeve of his before-usual grey t-shirt. Cargo trousers and more military attire have been recently removed from his wardrobe and replaced by smart clothes - shirts, chinos, shoes… - more according to his rank and the peculiarities of their work in Wayhaven. Although Mason was all scorn and smirks at Adam’s noticeable change of  _ essential clothing _ , Felix dropped something about him trying to impress someone… And despite Adam’s emotional constipation, I became quite aware that  _ someone _ was clearly me.

He confessed that ‘I was everything’ and we held hands at the Carnival. It doesn’t seem much at all, but there’s also this insane pulling between us every time we are together. I cannot put words on it. It feels… natural. Good and right. Even if he drives me insane with his sternness and his stubbornness… Although I have to admit that I’m also guilty of the latest, too. 

But despite that magnetism or chemistry that pulls us inevitably, neither of us have made any approach effort since the Carnival. Adam… well, because he’s Adam. And me… because it feels somehow correct to wait for him to make the next move. At the end of the day, he’s the one who seems to be struggling to understand what is going on between us. My interest has been laid bare at his feet. Many times. But I’m still waiting for him to decide what he wants to do with it.

As if feeling my concealed and thoughtful stare, his icy green eyes met mine and my stomach flips at being caught. However, I lock my eyes boldly in his, even if I feel my cheeks reddening and the tips of my fingers and toes tingling with excitement. 

“D’you know…? It’s usually polite to say  _ hello _ when you get into a place and find someone else there,” I tease him with a matter-of-fact tone.

Adam’s lips curl up a little bit in return. “I apologize, Detective. You looked quite immersed in the reading. I didn’t want to bother you.”

I hum noncommittally as an answer and go back to my book. And, after feeling his gaze lingering for a little longer over me, Adam goes also back to his. 

The silence feels comfortable and that is one of the things that shocks me the most about our relationship: even if the tension between us is a permanent tangible thing, I can perfectly sit with him for hours, just reading or filling out reports… when we are at ease with each other.

I shake my head, trying to stop thinking about him, and I go back to my book. 

“ _ Fae supernaturals healing abilities are definitely better than human beings. However, the recovery time differs depending on the species and the nature of the wound.  _

_ On the next chart, there are examples of the most common traumas in comparison with the species and the healing time for each of them… _ ”

Shit… I like history, mythology, psychology… And can even do with some biology if necessary, but this is too much for a Friday evening. 

Twenty minutes later, my boredom is starting to win the battle. Distractedly, I run a hand through my pixie haircut, brushing the close-crop part at the back of my head. 

I have to admit that I love the raspy feeling of short hair on my fingers. 

It makes a quiet brushing sound that seems to catch Adam’s attention. I can feel, more than see, how he glances at my subtle movement over his book. 

And I meet his eyes, emerald green washing over me with intensity. 

His gaze snaps away from mine nearly immediately and there’s a rushed rustling when he turns some pages, clearing his throat. 

But I keep staring. And I’m bored. And sudden curiosity sparkles in my mind. 

I knew it before, the fact that Adam is more than 900 years old, basically because he told me. But I never got to think of the implications that it meant and I’m heavily struck by it. Like if suddenly understanding that he has actually lived, walked over the Earth, for 900 years. More than 9 human lives! 

And I’m utterly gobsmacked and even lightheaded just thinking of it. 

In less than a blink, a ton of questions pile up in my mind and itch in my tongue - history, customs, anthropology, religion… - and I decide to finally dismiss the Fae, trying to decide if I should ask them or not. And I’m sure he notices my hesitant stare by the way he shifts his weight a bit. But what really took him off his reading was my fingers tapping insistently a regular and unnerving pattern over the hard book cover in my lap.

He turns his head at me, emerald green finally meeting sapphire blue. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I lie. 

He gives me a condescending gaze, arching a blonde brow, and the gesture is so incredulous and yet so encouraging that it makes me speak my mind. “I was just thinking of how old you actually are…”

His eyebrows furrow nearly immediately, drawing a deep set of creases between them. Perhaps my admiration has been misunderstood under the boldness of the statement.

“I mean that you have lived for many years and over so many historical periods that I just find it difficult to understand...”

“What is it difficult to understand?” His words are spare and his tone, stern, although there’s a hint of honest curiosity behind them, encouraging the conversation despite his frown. 

Speaking to Adam is like feeding a stray cat: you never know exactly when you’re overstepping your proximity, although I’m fully aware that he enjoys some old good snarky comments and clever retorts sometimes… But they can also scare him away in the blink of an eye. 

“How are you still sane, for instance?” I declare with a shrug, the Fae book resting in my lap, open awkwardly, forcing its spine. 

It’s obvious that my question takes him completely off-guard. After some silent seconds, analyzing the teasing and the meaning of it, Adam chuckles quietly. “That’s a very good question, indeed… Sometimes I ask myself that same exact thing.”

It seems that I passed the test. For now. 

“It’s just… I can’t wrap my mind around it. Nearly 1000 years are loads of years!”

“They are, trust me. I’m well aware of it.”

I can’t avoid the feeling that he’s mocking me now or being sincere. It is difficult to tell when his expression is so serious most of the time. “How were things? When you were human, I mean…”

His expression suddenly changes: from a thin friendly grin to pursed lips. Adam examines me with a critical eye before speaking. “Are you going to turn this evening into a personal interrogation, Detective?” His words are laced with reluctancy but it doesn’t take me by surprise. 

I asked something too personal. I stepped too far.

However, he hasn’t retrieved just yet the book that he had left closed over his thighs, which means he might be keen on carrying on talking.

I try to solve the situation, swiftly explaining my intentions, giving him an honest look back. “I’m not asking you about the specifics of your life, but about the world around you, if that makes sense?” 

“And why would I do that?”

Curiosity underlays his words and I use it on my behalf. “Because you can ask me anything you want in return?”

He breathes in deeply, considering, still eyeing me carefully as if he was about to sign a contract with the devil himself. 

I am nearly losing my hopes that he would offer himself for that little game when Adam nods, closing his book and putting it aside on the coffee table, retrieving his glass of wine. Then, he bends his leg and rests it on the sofa, shifting his whole body to face me. 

He looks… relaxed. Younger with no traces of a frown or his usual stern expression. At ease as I’ve never seen him before. And devilishly handsome.

A rush of nervousness jolts in my body and I completely forget what I wanted to ask, realizing - despite all the odds - how deeply I’m falling for that man. The sudden desire of reaching out for him and tracing his perfectly chiselled jawline with my fingers overwhelms me for an instant. 

But that would be too much. It would be stepping too far, again. 

Whatever battle he is dealing with himself about  _ us _ , Adam is the only one who can solve it, and I don’t mind waiting. 

Although I don’t fully understand what is going on in his mind.

“If we are going to do this, you’ll have to be more specific, Detective: I cannot tell you  _ everything _ about the Early Middle Ages…”

I don’t wait for him to finish the sentence, closing my book and putting it aside as well. “How was life? How were the living conditions?” I ask with eagerness.

He scoffs. “That’s far away from being more specific...” However, he quietens and thinks for some seconds. “Life was… tough. And brief, but intense. And dirty. Death was as ordinary as breathing. People died. Illness, famishing, wars… Many of us were lucky to survive our childhood. The culture was kept locked in the monasteries and life was impossible to conceive without religion. Nobility fought against each other for more land, vassals or resources… that was everyday life.”

I retrieve my glass of wine from the table, rolling the stem in my fingers distractedly. “You’re painting it very bad…”

“It  _ was _ very bad. They are not called the Dark Ages in vain.”

“Did you only live in Normandy?”

“Mostly. Except when my family got involved in wars of vassalage agreements with the feudal lord or the king. But I would rather not talk about it.” 

That is clearly my cue to drop the topic, but I am just curious about one last thing. “Ok, can you indulge me with this one? I guess that you belonged to some sort of nobility back then… Did you? Did you have a castle?”

The tips of his lips curve up on a soft grin. “Minor nobility. And yes,  _ we _ did have a castle.”

“Well… that explains so many things… Like why you boss everyone around, for example.”

My comment makes him chuckle and I’m delighted to hear the sound, rich and warm. The fleeting view of dimples made me smile in return, trying to take in as much as I can of it. 

But I’ve got many more questions to be answered. Honest historical curiosity. “Did the system work back then? Feudalism?” 

“I suppose it depends on who you ask. It obviously worked for the feudal lord, but trust me that the vassals and the peasants had a very different opinion about it. The wealth and the land belonged to the lord, as books say. And they only responded to the king. Peasants had many taxes to pay. Most of them were paid in kind, as they didn’t have anything else to pay with. That led to hunger, and hunger led to war and death.”

“It is not an optimistic point of view at all…”

“It was what it was.”

“When did things start to change?”

“Believe it or not, when religion started to ease its grip over everything and education and science made their appearance. During the whole Middle Ages, the culture was based and contained in monasteries. Normal people didn’t have any sort of education and mostly everyone was illiterate, including some nobility, too…”

Curiosity strikes me and I can’t help but interrupt him. “Were you one of them?”

Adam gives me a chiding look. “No, I was not. My family took our education very seriously. But as I was saying, things began to change when knowledge started to be more accessible to everyone. It was still mostly reserved for wealthy statements of society and nobility, but it made a whole difference after some years.”

I nod my head, sipping from my wine and he mirrors my gesture. Questions blurt in my mind: now I know he had siblings for sure, so I file the information up in my brain for another occasion, perhaps.

“Is our current government system better?” 

“Definitely, although many things can still be improved. Don’t you think so?”

“Yes, I mean… I think our system is quite unfair and wealth and power are still very badly distributed, but I haven’t known anything else. Obviously, you have a wider perspective of how things have changed or improved.” 

His seriousness turns into a very thin smile, but there’s a mischievous tone underlying his question. “Are you agreeing with me for once?”

“Oi! I agree with you more than often,” I say, faking indignant, making him arch an incredulous brow. 

“Anyway, there are still many places that have a close-to-feudal government system and I will give you that, even in ours, the power and wealth are not fairly distributed, yet. But I suppose it’s a matter of time. Probably a long time.”

I nod my head with the certainty that, unless anything changes, I won’t be alive to appreciate the expected changes. But a new line of questioning bursts in my mind. “Have you been to any of those countries?” I ask, suddenly curious about his own experiences over 900 years.

Adam shifts again on the sofa, leaning his side on the back of it, and his top stretches gracefully over his tightened biceps. “No, Not recently. Our last assignment took us to different areas of South America, where some countries still have a ‘curious’ political situation.”

“Wow… You must have travelled quite a lot in 900 years…” It was not a question but a statement.

“Yes, I have. What about you?”

His question takes me by surprise. At this point, my human life seems too boring and far too mundane to have any interest at all. My brain stammers in finding a proper answer to it. “I… I don’t know. Well, yes, of course, I know. Not as much as I would have liked to, I suppose.” 

I am fully aware of the vagueness of my answer by the way he quirks his eyebrow at me, demanding more information.

“I wasn’t very specific, was I?” I ask, scrunching my nose. I don’t have to wait for his answer to carry on. “Ok, I went to uni, I got pissed when Rebecca pulled back my application for the FBI and I put everything on standby. I got a backpack and I set off to Europe. I was ‘on the run’ for two years, but that’s why I babble in so many languages. Do you speak any languages?”

Adam purses his lips and I see a flick of embarrassment on his features. “Latin, English and French… Only because I learnt them when I was a child,” he confesses. 

“How so? I had very high language expectations for a person that has lived over 900 years…” I tease him.

I find it quite funny the way he tries to explain himself. “Well… French and English have changed considerably since Medieval times… French had been quite important for many centuries. Back in time, more than half of Europe spoke French. And then English grew up to be the trade language: there was no need to learn anything else at all...”

“Fair point, I suppose…” I have to admit. “Or perhaps you were just being a bit lazy…?”

His smile widens. “I suppose you can also put it that way… I’m not… gifted for languages,” Adam admits, to my surprise. But before I can tease him further, he puts me under the spotlight, once again. “Where did you live? When you travelled to Europe, I mean.”

His interest seems genuine and it encourages my explanations and makes me a bit nervous, indeed. “Florence and Rome in Italy, suburbs of Paris, Berlin, Barcelona and Santander in Spain, London, of course, Budapest for a little while, although the language was too much for me…”

There’s a shine of admiration in his emerald eyes. And curiosity. “That’s quite a long journey for just two years.”

“It was… I quite enjoyed it: meeting new people, getting to know every secret and hidden corner of the cities… I didn’t do bad: I usually shared accommodation and worked in many crappy places.” I smile melancholically at the memory. “Rebecca also financed part of the trip, trying to buy my forgiveness. I suppose she felt guilty for ruining my expectations within the FBI...”

Even if my tone is easy, there’s still a sharp bitterness lacing my words and Adam notices it. He knows how bad the relationship with Agent Greene is. And, unlike Nate and Felix, I do really appreciate the fact that he has never tried to  _ fix it _ , probably understanding the harm done and the fact that it was not his business at all.

“You clearly liked that life, why to come back here?”

I sigh with deep resignation. “I wish I could have stayed travelling… One day she turned the tap off. I survived for some months, but my income was not good enough and, sadly, my studies were quite criminology/psychology orientated to begin a brand new career in a different country.”

“But why come back here, to Wayhaven? You could have gone anywhere else.”

I chuckle bitterly. “Come back here was the last thing on my list, trust me: it was not in my plans at all. But  _ they _ offered me the job and the promotion right after on a silver platter. An easy and shooting career, I have to admit. Not many people get to be a detective in less than a year. Of course Rebecca had something to do with it, but who cared at that point.”

Adam hums quietly, meditative. “I have to admit that, after having worked with you for some time, you are fairly competent as a detective.”

Wow, is that a compliment? Coming from him? About my skills as a detective? 

His face is totally serious and I’m secretly glad that we are past the stage when we headbutted each other every day about our leadership disagreements. “Thank you, I suppose. It means quite a lot, coming from you and I do really appreciate it. Anyway, it’s my turn again. What is your craziest story about travelling?” I enquiry, sipping some wine.

“Are we talking about missions with the Agency?”

“No, not really. Something curious, funny or unusual… I don’t know. Whatever!” 

Adam thinks for a little while, emptying his glass in the process and I give him some time for it. Definitely, 900 years are many years to think about. 

“I think it was travelling the Silk Road little after its popularity grew within the West of Europe… It had been quite popular for some centuries already in Byzantium, but I think I must have been one of the first travellers from the Northern regions… Probably the palest person no one had ever seen there, or that’s what I deduced by the way everyone treated me. Once we arrived in Asia… It was quite common that people stopped me to touch my hair or my face as if they couldn’t believe I was real… Obviously, my features were quite different from the people that lived there… Probably they hadn’t seen anyone so  _ white _ before...”

I can’t help but snicker at his words, picturing the situation like something taken from a film. “Well, it is true that you’re really pale. Perhaps a sunbathe from time to time would help with that…” my brain supplies, all witty.

He gives me a chiding look, one eyebrow arched up. “I wish it was that easy but trust me, it doesn’t work that way at all, Eve...”

My name sounds warm and sweet like honey on his lips and a thrill of pleasure runs down my spine thinking of him calling my name in many very different contexts, probably with fewer clothes involved. 

“That’s a shame… I’m sure it would be quite a sight,” I return, flirty and mischievous. 

Damn it! Sometimes I can’t just help it… But, to my surprise, Adam meets my gaze with a rather playful smirk and seems about to retort something back to me. 

But, suddenly, his expression turns grave and he quietens, whatever he was about to say dying in his lips. 

Perhaps it’s better not to pursue that line of conversation anymore. 

I hear some steps on the corridor, even and unhurried. They stop in front of the library door and I turn my gaze to it, expecting Nate’s tall figure to come inside. Out of the corner of my eye, I perceive how Adam stiffens, still looking at me, but I’m sure he’s listening carefully to whoever is in the corridor. After some seconds, the steps resume, getting further away from us and he seems to relax again.

I won’t be surprised if he decides we had enough conversation already but, to my amazement, he adjusts his position on the sofa and waits for me to carry on with my interrogation, an encouraging calm expression on his face. 

And I have to admit that I blank for some seconds, not knowing what to ask to keep him talking on the most friendly and intimate moment we have shared since we met. “What’s the best part of these times? What do you like the most?”

“Do you mean from this age?”

I just nod my head, eager to know his answer. 

“Many things, I suppose… Water supply, medical advances, hygiene, the Internet, phones, flushable private toilets, cars…”

“Toilets?” I am a bit puzzled before understanding that toilets were actually quite different not many years ago. “Oh… ah! Fair enough.”

Adam gazes at me and offers me an amused tiny smile but I’m already interested in something else he said before. “Was it difficult to learn driving?”

His chest lowers in a contained sarcastic scoff and he rolls his eyes. I love the gesture immediately. “An odyssey at first, but I grew to like it. Nate is the only one who is still working on it.”

“I know he’s not very keen on any sort of technology… Last time I texted him it took him 12 min to type a reply... He told me you like cars.”

“Not the actual cars, but I like restoring and repairing them.”

His statement leaves me open-mouthed, as in my narrowed mind it’s quite hard to believe than a 900 years old vampire could remotely be able to understand the mechanics of a car. “Hang on… Do you actually know how to repair a car?”

For a parted moment, Adam feels quite pleased with himself. “Is it that surprising? I had to invest properly the time I didn’t use for learning languages...”

I gaze at his face, confused. His expression is soft but serious, however, there’s again that hint of sarcasm in his beautiful green eyes. “You know what? It’s very difficult to know when you are joking when your expression is exactly the same one than when we are arguing, you know?” I tease him, faking indignant. 

He chuckles again and I melt with the sound. 

I don’t want this evening to end. This conversation to end. Us. 

“Perhaps you can give me a hand with mine, then?” I ask, hopeful. 

But Adam just shakes his head. “I fix cars, but I don’t do miracles, Eve. Your car... I think buying a new one would be advisable in your case”

I shoot him a glare at his snarky comment but I’m happy to see that he’s openly smiling at me. 

“Do you have any hobbies? What do you do when you’re not at the police station or working with us?” he wants to know.

Another question enquiring about me. I empty my glass and put it on the side table, realizing how green and clear his eyes are and how at ease he seems to be right now. Probably the distance between us has something to do with it (we are still sitting on opposite sides of the sofa). “Not that I had much time lately, but working out, writing, playing the guitar… But I’m sure you know that last one already.”

He hums in acknowledgement but doesn’t seem content with just one question. His next one is actually quite deep. “Do you regret knowing about us? Not just the Unit. Knowing about supernaturals’ existence?”

I divert my gaze from his and lean back on the arm of the sofa, wiggling my toes extended in front of me. It still takes me a long deep breath in to put my thoughts together to reply to his question, knowing I’m stepping on thin ice. “I did at first.”

Adam lowers his gaze. A quick scene of one of our conversations right after I was informed about  _ everything _ flashes in my mind. He called himself  _ a monster _ and I didn’t do anything to contradict the statement. I was not in the correct mindset, neither ready to see the truth. Embarrassment at my doing seeps through every pore of my skin. “But I don’t anymore. Learning the truth hasn’t been easy, but I wouldn’t change it at all. I’m quite glad to be part of it with you.” 

His eyes dart to mine with a mixture of gratitude and alarm at my confession and I don’t really want to, but I explain myself further. “With  _ all of you _ , Unit Bravo.”

_ But specifically you _ . 

As he relaxes again, I decide to push my luck further. “Adam… I always wanted to ask you this but I will understand if you don’t want to answer. Did you keep in touch with your family after… You know… Becoming a vampire?” 

Deep old sadness dampens his green eyes that flicker to the wall behind me and I’m nearly sure he won’t reply. He seems to be lost in memories for some seconds before meeting my gaze again. “I did at first. I was not ready to assume what happened to me. I was in denial.” 

“Was it not compatible? To be with your family, I mean...”

He smiles again but this time is quite different. Guilty and melancholic. “Not for a young vampire. Not at all. I had to leave...”

I regret bringing up the topic immediately because I don’t want to know about it. Not if it hurts him. Not if he is not ready. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you recall painful memories. I understand that if you love someone you are never ready to let go…”

“I tracked my descendants for some generations, but their lives were fleeting. Mortal lives still are sometimes. It became more and more difficult within the years. The loss…”

“So you just shut down…” I mutter, suddenly understanding.

Adam stares at me with glazed green eyes under blonde eyelashes, looking at me but without seeing me, lost in memories. And it all made sense now. All of him. 

The only way he has been able to survive has been closing himself to any feeling. Switching off that part of his humanity that cared about anyone else. And that is why he’s so disturbed around me. Because I break his defences and remind him of everything he has lost. 

The fact that he has feelings for me breaks the balance that his life has had for nearly a thousand years and he is completely lost on what to do about it. 

About me. About us.

He just doesn’t want to lose me.

And there’s just one way he wouldn’t have to.

“Are you all right?” I ask, shyly and guilty.

“Yes. I am,” he states after a sharp inhale, retrieving his book from the table. 

“I’m going to have dinner with Nate, would you like to join us?”

“No, thank you. I’ll carry on with my reading, Detective.”

Our conversation is clearly over and I smile sadly at the recovered title, my name forbidden on his lips once again. 

“Thank you,” I say while standing up.

“What for?”

“For talking to me. For letting me know you.”

Adam doesn’t reply, but I swear I can see the quirk of a smile blooming on his lips when he looks at me. 

When I walk past him, my hand lands on his broad shoulder and I feel him stiffen at the contact, all hard muscle and warmth under my touch. I give him a grateful squeeze. 

My heart stutters and my breath hitches when his own hand covers mine, interlacing our fingers loosely for just some seconds. 

“Thank you for understanding,” he hushedly whispers before I resume my steps.


End file.
